Page 124 of Killing Me Softly

He straddled Kenny’s lap, gripping either side of his neck with desperate fingers, and kissed him. It was nice. So fucking nice. Better than any medicine. Any therapy. And the way Aaron’s body pressed against his, with the hunger still there, unfiltered, despite how weak Kenny was had Kenny’s pulse spiking, hands itching to touch, to pull him closer.

But when Aaron deepened the kiss, ready to consume him whole, as if erasing the thoughts of who had last been kissing him that way, fuck, ithurt.

No, reallyhurt.

“Ow, ow—” Kenny winced as sharp pain shot through his chest, stitches pulling and he gripped Aaron’s waist, stopping him. “Not yet, baby. Not yet.”

Kenny hated how the fire in Aaron’s eyes dulled, dimming smaller, more vulnerable. And he swallowed, loosening his grip on Kenny’s neck, climbing off him, retreating to the other side of the sofa.

“That’s okay.” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck, eyes anywhere but on Kenny. “We got more than sex going for us, right?”

Kenny’s chestached. Not from his stitches, but from howAaron asked questions, then braced himself for the wrong answer.

“We do,” Kenny said softly.

And they did.

Theyabsolutelydid. All those months resisting temptation had given them something far better than sex.

Intimacy.

But that didn’t mean the hunger wasn’t there. Didn’t mean it had lessened. Nor mean Kenny didn’t feel the tension simmering under Aaron’s skin, coiling tight with every passing day of his recovery where Aaron stayed day and night.

And as such, it only took another five nights before Aaron tried again.

And this time, Kennydidn’tstop him.

Because they were already naked anyway, already tangled beneath the sheets, skin to skin, hearts beating in sync. There was no hesitation this time, no fumbling rush. Just Aaron, shifting above him, gaze dark with more than lust, more than longing.

Devotion.

And even though Kenny hadn’t completely healed yet, hadn’t regained his full strength to take the control away from Aaron the way he liked him to, he put his trust in Aaron. Let him do it all. And fuck did he.

Aaronworshippedhim with every touch, every kiss, mapping out the places Kenny was still healing, the stitches across his chest, the bruises along his ribs. He kissed them all, gentle and lingering, as if sealing them shut with something stronger than thread.

Devotion.Love.

And there was no urgency. But therewasdesperation.

A need. Visceral and potent.

To reconnect. To feelalive.

So Kenny let Aaron do whatever it was he needed to and he let himself be touched. Taken apart. Put back together in Aaron’s hands, in his mouth, in the way he kissed him—soft, deep, endless. The way he moved against him, as if trying to prove his worth.

Theyweremore than sex.

But sex was still important.

And whatever storm was coming, whatever ghosts lingered in their past, none of it mattered.

Because this? Them. Together. Was real.

Kenny was never letting it go.

And when Aaron took him into his mouth, savouring every inch, he allowed Kenny to forget the pain. Forget everything except the warmth of Aaron’s mouth, the wet heat of his tongue tracing his length, his lips tightening around him with every downward plunge. And Kenny watched him utterly mesmerised.

Aaron licked along the sensitive ridge of his head, teasing, tormenting, swiping his tongue across his tip as if he was tasting something sacred and Kenny groaned. Loving every cherished second. Then Aaron wrapped his fingers around the base of Kenny’s cock, holding him steady, taking him deeper, forcing more of him down his throat. And the way he moved—controlled, precise, utterly ravenous—had Kenny’s stomach clenching, and he gripped the sheets to stop himself from tangling them in Aaron’s hair and guiding himharder.Faster.

---